Who You Gonna Call?
by windscryer
Summary: Shawn gets a phone call from Dean about a problem he and Sam are dealing with, but it's a little bit out of Shawn's area of expertise. Gen. PYO ASR 'Verse.
1. Shawn Knows Everything, Right?

Two-shot. Only because Lulu and Sky insisted on the second part.

Otherwise? I have no explanation. Blame the aforementioned insistors.

**TIMELINE MARKER:**

No spoilers for either but for reference's sake . . .

Psych: Early season two-ish.

SPN: Early season three-ish.

Oh and _**WARNING**_ for those easily squicked, and/or male. There is mention/discussion of girliness.

And I ain't talking about Shawn's scream.

Dedicated to Lu who asked for dirty boys and blood. I don't think this is _quite_ what she had in mind but . . . oh well. :D

Send any therapy bills to her. ;)

* * *

_"Hey, Shawn,"_ Dean said without preamble. _"What do you know about . . . uh . . . um . . ."_

And that's where the freight train of conversation took a header off the cliff into the valley of silence.

"About . . ." Shawn said when it appeared Dean wasn't going to continue.

"_Uh . . . about . . ."_ Dean stammered.

Shawn arched an eyebrow. "Baby seals?"

"_What the hell?"_ Dean said.

"I don't know. It could have been your question."

"_Seriously? You think I'm going to call you out of the blue and ask for everything you know about _baby seals_?"_

Shawn shrugged. "As a Psychic Detective I get lots of weird questions. Speaking of which, what was yours again?"

"_It was what do you know about . . . . um . . ."_

"About . . ." Shawn prompted again, rolling his eyes.

Dean mumbled something and Shawn frowned.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"_Periods!"_ Dean repeated. _"Okay? What do you know about periods?"_

Shawn blinked. "They come at the end of sentences?"

Dean sighed, annoyance clear. _"Not THOSE kinds of . . . periods."_

"What other kind of-" Shawn stopped cold, eyes widening. "Wait. You mean . . ."

"_Yeah."_ Boy, could you _sound_ any more uncomfortable over a phone?

"What the hell, Dean? Why do you want to know about THOSE kinds of . . . that?"

_"I'm just . . . curious."_

Yeah. And Shawn was the freaking Queen of England.

"No way, dude. There's a reason and I want to know what it is. Is it a girl? Are you getting SERIOUS with a girl?"

_"What?! No! There's no reason, Shawn. I just-"_

"Is that Shawn?" a female voice said in the background.

_"Yes,"_ Dean said. _"No! Wait! Sam! Give me the damn-"_

_"Shawn!"_

Shawn blinked. The details were coming together, but the picture they were forming _had_ to be wrong.

". . . Sam?" he said finally.

_"Shawn! Dean pissed off a witch, only when she retaliated he ducked and it hit ME instead and now I've been turned into a girl!"_

Shawn blinked again. "Wait. What?"

_"It's true!"_ Sam insisted.

And, really, weirder things had happened.

So Shawn shrugged. "Okay. So- Wait. Why was Dean asking about-"

_"Because,"_ Sam mumbled.

Silence. Desperate silence waiting for a punchline that never came.

"You're joking. Right?"

_"Oh fuck, I wish, Shawn. I really fucking wish I was."_

"Um. Wow. Uh. Why . . ." He paused, thought about it, then continued. "Why don't you ask Juliet? You know, she IS a girl."

Silence came back, though it was of the embarrassed variety now, then Dean's voice in the background came back with, _"What did he say, Sam?"_

Sam coughed. _"He, uh . . . He said to call Juliet."_

More silence.

Shawn was sure a silent blame game was taking place.

_"Uh, thanks, Shawn. Um . . . Yeah. Thanks. I've got to . . . Bye."_

Shawn grinned. "Sure, Sam. No problem. Tell Dean I want pictures."

Sam all but growled, _"Don't count on it."_

The call was ended and Shawn replaced the phone in his pocket with a chuckle.

It vibrated a moment later and he found a text message.

A very pissed off—and rather pretty, but quite obviously female—Sam glared back at him.

Shawn just laughed out loud.

* * *

Yeah. And that's not all. But I'm waiting for the second half to be betaed.

Review, please and thanks. :D


	2. Saint Juliet to the Rescue

So, I sent this off to my beta.

Who left for a week.

Not that I'm blaming her.

Because I totally forgot about it too. *headdesk*

BUT HERE IT IS. TEH SECOND HALF. And I'll just repeat the warning with an added level of strength: IF LAST CHAPTER SQUICKED YOU OUT, CLICK OUT NOW. THIS ONE IS WORSE.

Otherwise, ENJOY! :D

* * *

Juliet sighed and rolled her head, wincing when her neck popped and cracked. With a sigh she picked up her phone.

"Detective O'Hara."

_"Juliet? Oh thank-"_

"I'm sorry," Juliet said, frowning. "Who is this?"

_"It's Sam."_

Juliet's eyebrow rose. "Sam . . . who?"

_"Sam Winchester."_

Juliet smiled. "No, it's not."

There was a sigh. _"Yes, it is."_

"No, it's _not_. Sam Winchester is a guy. Who is this really? Did Shawn put you up to this?"

The voice was weary when it said, _"Juliet, it really is me. It's Sam."_

"Uh huh. Look, I'm sure Shawn paid you very nicely, but I have work to do and-"

_"You were afraid of horses as a child because one bit your hand when you went to a farm on a fourth grade field trip."_

Juliet froze. "How did you-"

_"Because you told me when you were concussed."_

"I . . . Sam?"

_"Unfortunately."_

"But you're-"

_"Unfortunately."_

"How . . ." She closed her eyes. "No. Wait. I don't think I want to know."

_"It was Dean's fault."_

Juliet rolled her eyes.

"Of course it was." She sighed in resignation. "What did you need?"

_"Um."_

The silence stretched.

"Sam?"

_"I . . . uh . . ."_

Juliet frowned. "What is it?"

_"I . . . I started . . . um . . . Fuck."_

Laughter could be heard in the background and a pissed, "_Shut _up_, Dean_," followed.

"Sam, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

_"I'm . . . bleeding,"_ Sam said so softly she almost missed it.

"Bleeding?" Juliet repeated, frowning. "Did you cut yourself?"

_"Uh . . . no. I didn't cut myself."_

The laughter rose in volume.

And then the light switch was flicked.

"You're BLEEDING? Like . . ." She gestured but then realized that Sam couldn't see that. And her coworkers were staring. Lassiter in particular. So she lowered her voice and turned away. "Like, _bleeding_?"

_"Yes,"_ Sam said miserably. _"And I feel like shit. My stomach hurts. And I've got a headache. And-"_

Juliet let her head drop into her hand, the elbow propped on her desk as she listened to the symptoms being listed.

"Do you guys have a way to fix it?" she asked when the litany ended.

Sam sniffled and Juliet's eyes closed. Poor guy. Girl. Whatever.

_"No. That's why I called you. I don't-"_

"I mean, the," Juliet waved hand, "being a girl thing."

"_Oh."_ Sniff. _"We think so. But it takes a month to brew."_ Then panic infused her voice. _"OH HELL. HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO LAST?"_

Juliet winced. "I'm not sure. I mean, every girl is different and your situation is . . . especially unique."

Sam whimpered.

"But," Juliet said quickly, "the average is usually a week or less. Oh Sam, I'm so sorry. This has to suck."

_"I just- STOP LAUGHING, DEAN. IT'S NOT FUNNY." _

The sound of a door slamming followed and the laughter dimmed to barely noticeable.

_"He's such a jerk."_

Juliet smiled and said gently, "He's probably compensating for how freaked out he is. You know Dean."

Sam sniffed again. _"He's still a jerk."_

Juliet laughed. "Always and forever. He's Dean."

Sam sighed. _"So what do I . . . do about this?"_

Juliet sighed too. "Well, couple of things. First of all, chocolate and warm baths are your best friends right now."

_"Oh man, chocolate. I've been DYING for chocolate all day."_

"Eat it. Don't pig out, but definitely have some."

_"But-"_

"It really helps. It's prompts your body to make seratonin. It actually does help. That craving is there for a reason."

_"Okay. And warm baths?"_

"Or a shower. The point is the heat. It's very soothing. A heating pad will also help if you can't get the hot water. I know how the hotels you stay in aren't the best for that."

_"Okay. What else? I mean . . . How do I . . . you know . . ." _Her voice lowered to a whisper._ "Not look like I'm bleeding to death?"_

Juliet took a deep breath. "Okay, Sam. Pay close attention. There's a lot to cover. You ready?"

Sam took a deep breath of her own. _"Okay. I'm ready."_

"There are two options- Well, actually, there are like four, but I don't think you'll want to go the cup route since you'll—hopefully only have to deal with this once-"

"_A cup?"_ Sam repeated, sounding both morbidly curious and horrified.

"Yeah, it's supposed to be a green approach to the whole thing since it's reusable and not contributing to the landfills and-"

"_STOP!"_ There was another whimper. _"I'm not going to survive this month,"_ she quietly moaned.

Juliet put all the reassuring over and undertones she could into her voice. "Yes, you will. Really, once you get past this part it's not so bad being a girl."

"_Of course you think that! You're not used to being a guy!"_

Juliet smiled. She'd be offended if this wasn't such an amusing situation. Sad, but amusing. Besides, she knew that hormonal changes came with the territory this week and until you learned how to deal with that on a conscious level it was pretty rough.

"Sam, listen to me. You're going to be fine. All right?"

A sniffle came down the line. _"Really? You think so?"_

"I do. And, in fact, I think you're going to handle this much better than Dean ever could."

"_Oh man,"_ Sam said, laughing as she sniffled again. _"Can you imagine?"_

Juliet chuckled. "Oh I think I can."

Sam sniffed once more, then took a deep breath. _"Okay. Sorry. I really think I'm ready now. But, um, can we skip the details? Just . . . gloss over it? Because I really don't want to know anything more than absolutely necessary to survive this week."_

"Sure, Sam," Juliet agreed. "We can do that. I do need to ask a few questions and go into some detail to make sure you're going to be comfortable though."

Sam sighed. _"Okay, fine."_

"First, I have to ask. Didn't you have a girlfriend?"

"_Um, yes. But . . . this wasn't exactly something we talked about. Why? Is that a problem?"_

Juliet shrugged and leaned back. "No, that's fine. It's just some guys do learn a few things when they have a steady girlfriend."

She could almost hear Sam frowning. _"You know, now that you mention it, I don't think she . . . um . . . you know. At least, I don't remember anything in the bathroom and no mood swings or chocolate binges."_

"She might have been on birth control that eliminated the actual, uh, Hell Week, experience."

"_YOU CAN STOP THIS FROM HAPPENING?"_

"Yes. It can take several months to take full effect and it doesn't work for all girls, but it is possible, yes. That won't help you now though. Sorry."

Sam sighed. _ "Yeah. Figures."_

"Okay, now for some explanation. Sorry, but it's necessary. Like I said you have two main options in . . . cleanliness control. Pads or tampons."

"_What's the difference?"_

Juliet pondered the best way to explain. "Pads are like band-aids, used externally. You use them pretty much the same way you would a gauze pad on a cut, except this isn't going to clot and stop bleeding so you just keep changing the pad until it's finished."

"_That's . . . kind of what I'm doing now. Only with, you know, actual gauze pads."_

"Good. That's a good temporary measure, but you'll go through the gauze like crazy and that's expensive. You other option is tampons. They're used internally like . . . plugs."

Silence met this analogy.

"_Internally? Plugs?_" Sam finally said. _"As in . . . like . . . you PLUG the leak by sticking something INSIDE?"_

Juliet had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Oh it was a good thing Shawn wasn't here.

"Yes," she said when she was under control. Enough. "That's pretty much it exactly."

"_That's . . . And you guys- gals- whatever . . . I mean . . . this is . . . normal?"_

Juliet tilted her head. "You know, Sam it's not all that different from-"

"_STOP THAT THOUGHT RIGHT THERE. I DON'T . . . I MEAN . . ."_ More whimpering. _"That's just not right. And girls accuse guys of being obsessed with sex? That's just . . ."_

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Trust me, Sam. That time of the month the very LAST thing on your mind is having sex." She frowned. "Well, maybe not for all women. I'm sure there are some out there who-"

"_Can we please just move on?"_

"Sorry. Yes. Okay, so I'm going to assume you're going to go with the pads then?"

"_Those are the band-aids?"_

Juliet smiled. "Yes."

"_Okay. Yeah. I can handle that."_

"Right. There are a lot of different styles and brands and it's actually a lot more complicated than it needs to be, but we're going to err on the side of caution in your case. Now, I have to ask, and trust me this is no more fun for me than you, but . . . When did this start and is the flow heavy or light?"

Sam made a choking sound but said, _"Um . . . Today. Well, last night. I mean . . . when I woke up . . ."_ Another whimper. _"It's . . . I don't know. Less than an arterial wound, more than a papercut? Oh fuck, I'm never going to think of that word the same way again."_

Juliet coughed to suppress a laugh.

"Okay. That's . . . really not helpful actually." But then, Juliet knew that this was kind of like a head wound. It always looked worse than it actually was. "Go ahead and go with the heavy flow. Just in case. As to size . . . uh . . ." She winced. "I don't suppose you know what size underwear you wear?"

"_I do when I'm a guy. And by the way, boxers don't work so well for me right now."_

"No, they won't. You can switch back to them if you prefer after this week, but they're not exactly built for this sort of thing."

Sam sighed. _"More new clothes. Awesome. I'm so killing Dean."_

Juliet grinned. "Sam, you may not have to. I'm pretty sure by the end of this month—if not this _week_ he'll be regretting not pushing you both out of the way."

"_He better,"_ she grumbled.

"Oh, that reminds me, you'll probably need bras too. I'd suggest going to a department store and having them fitted. Nothing is worse than a bra that doesn't fit."

"_A fitting? That sounds . . . horrifically embarrassing actually."_

"Pick an older saleslady. They're nicer. And trust me, Sam, she's not thinking about anything besides finding you the right size bra and it's definitely worth the embarrassment.

"What's your hip measurement?"

"_Um . . . hold on." _The sound of a door opening was followed by a muffled shout. _"Dean, can you get me the measuring tape? Because. Just because! Not for _that,_ thank you very much. I know there's nothing to meas- _S_top laughing!" _The, _"Asswipe,"_ was muttered but not muffled and Juliet was pressing a hand to her mouth to keep the laughter from escaping.

Lassiter was giving her a funny look again, but she'd caught his cheeks turning the faintest shade of red so she was pretty sure he'd overheard enough of the conversation to decide he didn't really want to know.

"_Okay, how do I do this?"_

Juliet walked Sam through the steps of getting her measurements and guessing her weight, then she calculated the correct size of underwear—with some help from Google—and they decided that Sam would need the extra longs or overnights. Just to be sure.

Out of curiosity Juliet had her measure her waist and bust line too.

"Hourglass figure," she said. "Lucky girl."

"_Oh yeah. Real lucky. This kind of luck I can do without."_

"Sorry. It's just you have a very nice figure. You're going to have to deal with that because it's going to get you attention."

Sam sighed. _"Of course it is. Why did Dean have to duck? You know he'd be all over the attention."_

"Probably. At any rate, that's pretty much what you'll need. You can choose the brand based on price, but trust me when I say you get what you pay for and this _is definitely_ an area worth splurging on.Any questions?"

"_I think that's it for now,"_ Sam said. _"But if I need help-"_

"You can call me anytime day or night."

"_Thanks, Juliet. I really appreciate this."_

"It's no problem, Sam."

They said their goodbyes and then Juliet hung up the phone and stared at her desk

That had to be, hands down, the WEIRDEST conversation she'd ever had with Sam _or_ Dean.

But Sam wasn't crying anymore and he—she?—had a shopping list. Dean's punishment for laughing would be to accompany his spelled sibling and assist in purchasing supplies. And no waiting on another aisle while Sam debated brands either.

Hopefully that would get Sam through the next day or two. But Juliet fully expected more phone calls. She checked her phone, then plugged it in. Just in case.

Then she put her head in her hands and laughed herself silly.

Only the Winchesters.

* * *

That's all. Hopefully no one is too horribly scarred. :D

Review, plx & thx?


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